


Coming Home

by TheWalkingSwen



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Songfic, Swan Queen - Freeform, fluff-ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-11
Updated: 2015-09-11
Packaged: 2018-04-20 06:59:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4777892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWalkingSwen/pseuds/TheWalkingSwen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Regina is in an accident that leaves her comatose. The world around her hustles to revive her, Emma and Henry rushing her to the hospital. While unconscious, she sees herself living her daily life, happy and finally at peace - but it reveals who is truly in her heart, and in what capacity.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coming Home

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own any places, characters or concepts to do with Once Upon a Time, nor the lyrics and music of Skylar Grey. 
> 
> So, I've had this milling about in my head for months, and am only finally getting around to writing it down. No matter when I listen to it, Coming Home pt II by Skylar Grey makes me weep, and invariably think of this. Do yourselves a favour - put the song on before, or during your read-through. Let's hope it makes the whole thing better. 
> 
> Thank you guys for reading, and as always - enjoy.

Coming Home

 

 

There was blood on the pavement where it happened.

 

There was blood on the hands of the woman lying, nearly broken on the ground. Ten feet from the car that had struck hers, and sent her flying through the front windshield before she could react.

 

By the time the police cruiser and ambulance had shown up, the deep red had begun to darken, coagulating into a sticky timeline of the accident.

 

Shallow breaths rasped from punctured lungs, a pain too blinding to register, and making brown eyes swim with tears.

 

There were no thoughts in her mind, only feelings.

 

By the time the paramedics arrived, the sensation of being lifted onto a gurney gave her vague impression of flight.

 

…

 

Regina’s eyes didn’t want to open.

 

Her bed was  too comfortable, and the sun wasn’t high enough for it to be unacceptable for a few more minutes of light sleep.

 

It was the smell of coffee that finally woke her, and the faint noise of somebody tinkering about in the kitchen. Dimly, voices.

 

_Robin._

 

She smiled, stretching out once more before pulling herself to a standing position, wrapping a loose silk robe around her shoulders and tying it at her waist.

 

…

  


Doors whipped open, blonde curls flying wildly around panicked green eyes as they searched out the nearest attendant. The look on her face read nothing less than horror, uncertainty brimming over the lashes in the form of salt water.

 

“Emma!”

 

A voice pulled her attention left, where she was met with the sight of her parents, and her son. Their expressions said it all.

 

_No._

 

…

 

The hallway to the staircase felt, and looked longer than normal.

 

Henry’s bedroom door was open, and she could see a few pieces of clothing littering the floor in true fashion. Otherwise, it was empty. _Henry shouldn’t be up yet_ , she thought passively, continuing on her path to the staircase.

 

The brunette noted that something inside the mayoral mansion felt different, and as delicate fingers reached the banister, the cool surface of polished wood jogged her memory straight into a wall. She jolted to a halt and realized what it was; she had found it - her happy ending.

 

A broad smile broke over her features, and much like the early morning sun, it was radiant.

 

…

 

“What do you mean there’s nothing else you can do!?” The words were hoarse, pleading.

 

The nurse looked nervously between Emma and her hand, clutching desperately to the metal rail at the foot of the bed. Her knuckles were white, just barely paler than her skin, which had drained of all its colour upon entering the room.

 

“Emma honey, they’ve done everything they can.” Snow repeated, her tone gentle, soothing. It did nothing. A look from her daughter told her everything.

 

“She can’t die. She… she _can’t_.”

 

The slow, steady beating of the heart monitor begged to differ. Every split second before each new beep, Emma felt herself losing faith in happy endings.

 

…

 

She noticed the light next.

 

There was something almost ethereal in the way the glowing beams hit the walls, brightening but seeming to give off a secondary splendor. Walking through a stream warmed her instantly, pulling a tingling sensation around her shoulders as she descended. The sounds were louder, and the voices had stopped. The realization that this was it, her _happy ending_ , took hold of her like a giant hand around her ribcage. It sunk in with gravity, and she let herself feel it all.  

 

Stopping at the foot of the stairs, she tried to ignore the anxiety building inside her. There was hesitance, but why? Wasn’t this what she had been waiting for, working for, her whole life?

 

Regina felt as though there was something to be revealed in the moment she crossed that threshold, the impending silence seeming to exaggerate her point.

 

It felt as though, once she saw it, it might slip through her fingers again.

 

But she took a deep breath, and kept walking.

 

…

 

Darkness had fallen hours before, and most people had gone home.

 

Nearly everyone in Storybrooke had heard the news, and some had even stopped in to pay their respects.

 

Respect.

 _That’s something Regina has here, now_. Emma thought bitterly, looking down at the bruised and bandaged face of the mayor. Not a single person had looked on her with anything less than tenderness in the hours since the accident. The irony of that was not lost on the Charmings.

 

Henry had left with Snow and David not long ago for some food, but the blonde had refused. Robin had been in for quite some time as well, but Roland couldn’t take much, and he left with the small boy after much silent protest.

 

Emma was there to stay.

 

No matter what it took, she would see Regina through this.

 

The monitors had become a lifeline for both the Queen and the Savior, the steady beeping reminding her to breathe as she stared at their hands. I won’t let you go. Emma’s grip around the limp hand tightened.

 

“Don’t you go.” She croaked, tired of holding back tears and screams that she wouldn’t allow. “You have to come home.”

 

…

 

 

The greeting died in her throat as she was met by an image of the utmost unlikelihood.

 

Sure enough, Henry sat at the table with a plate of bacon and eggs in front of him, looking up at her with a grin. That wasn’t the shocker, no - it was the brilliant blonde hair, long and loose that made her swallow her words.

 

Emma Swan was making coffee.

 

In her kitchen.

 

Slowly she turned, bare shoulders and legs catching the summer morning glow. Instantly, there was a smile on her lips and Regina was certain that she had just spoken - but she couldn’t hear it over the sound of blood pounding in her ears.

 

 _This is my happy ending._ Her mind echoed again. It felt too good to be anything else. Waking up to the smell of coffee, the sounds of her family moving about, laughing, it was perfect. But she had been expecting someone else.

 

And yet, when Emma came around the table and wrapped her long arms around her waist, it was all that made sense.

 

This was home.

 

…

 

“Regina, no!”

 

The beeping was frantic, and Emma’s own heartbeat was a mess. The nurses were trying to shove her out of the room, but the fireball scorching the leather of her jacket, burning in her palm was enough to convince them to let her stay as they fussed over Regina.

 

Her heart was failing.

 

They were losing her.

 

…

 

“What’s wrong, Mom?” Henry asked, brow knitted together.

 

“I’m… I’m fine.” She said shakily, feeling another jolt as a headache seared at her brain.

 

Emma looked concerned, so concerned. “You should go.” She said, and Regina thought for a moment that she misheard. “Go?” She echoed. “Go where?” Another wince, and a cry this time as the wind was taken from her lungs. Her stomach sung with pain and her vision blurred.

 

“Go home.”

 

…

 

When her eyes opened again, there was a white ceiling above her, dim and mottled; it was raining.

 

There was only the thrum of machines and the pleasant drone of water against the window behind her.

 

Her hand was warm.

 

She looked down, and there was that head of blonde hair. Tousled, tangled, up in a messy bun - Emma was asleep.

 

“Good morning.” Regina managed after a few minutes of finding her voice.

 

There were green eyes piercing hers within milliseconds, and an open mouth in disbelief, and awe. It was a look she had seen on Emma’s face before, but had never known what it meant until now. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Regina vowed never to let it go unrewarded or unremarked again.

 

The Savior tried to speak, but could manage only breathing. Regina spoke for her, bringing a hesitant smile to both pink lips, and bruised ones: “I’m home.” 


End file.
